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Titi was well soaked and dripping water from every angle of his body. But he managed to lean forward and shout in the ear of the Chainsaw Raccoon:

“Keep still, raccoon! Keep still!”

The raccoon at once ceased struggling and floated calmly upon the surface, its wooden body being as buoyant as a raft. Titi called out to the goiter headed man:

“Are you all right, Nate?”

There was no reply. So the tween called to the tremorroid “Are you all right, your highness?”

The Ratsack Tremorroid groaned. His rats’ squeaks were very shrill and loud.

“I’m all wrong, somehow,” he said, in a weak voice. “How very wet this water is! My burlap is soaked!”

Titi was bound so tightly by the intestines that he could not turn his head to look at his companions; so he said to the Chainsaw Raccoon:

“Paddle with your legs toward the shore.”

The raccoon obeyed, and although their progress was slow they finally reached the opposite river bank at a place where it was low enough to enable the fleshwood golem to scramble upon dry land.

With some difficulty the boy managed to get his compact machete out of his backpack and cut the intestines that bound the riders to one another and to the raccoon. He heard the Ratsack Tremorroid fall to the ground with a mushy thwump, and then he himself quickly dismounted and looked at his friend Nate.

His body still sat upright upon the raccoon’s back; but his head was gone. The goiter that was so necessary to Nate’s existence was missing, so the boy anxiously turned again toward the river.

Far out upon the cloudy, foaming yellow waters he sighted the veiny, lumpy goiter, which gently bobbed up and down with the motion of the waves. At that moment it was quite out of Titi’s reach, but after a time it floated nearer and still nearer until the boy was able to reach it with a snatchdragon’s thighbone he found lying near by. He drew the head to shore, carefully wiped the water from its goiter face with his light blue handkerchief, and ran with it to the garbage heap body and replaced the head upon the golem’s shoulders.

“I’ll have nothing more to do with that goiterhead,” declared the Chainsaw Raccoon, viciously. “he loses his head too easily to suit me.”

“Dear me!” were Nate’s first words. “What a bogus experience! If water spoils goiters then my days are numbered!”

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“I’ve never noticed that water spoils goiters,” returned Titi; “unless the water happens to be boiling. If your head isn’t dented you must be in fairly good condition.”

“Oh, my head isn’t dented in the least,” declared Nate, more cheerfully.

“Then don’t worry,” said the boy.

The sun was fast drying their burlap and clothes. When this had been accomplished Titi pounded the Ratsack Tremorroid into symmetrical shape and smoothed out his face so that he wore his usual gay and charming expression.

“Thank you very much,” said the burlap monarch, brightly, as he walked about and found himself to be well balanced. “There are several distinct advantages in being a ratsack. For if one has friends near at hand to repair damages, nothing very serious can happen to you. Although I think a few of my rats did drown to death.”

“I wonder if hot sunshine is liable to crack goiters,” said Nate, with an anxious ring in his voice.

“Not at all- not at all!” replied the Ratsack Tremorroid, gaily. “All you need fear, my boy, is old age. But come! Let us resume our journey. I am anxious to greet my friend Cy.” So they remounted the Chainsaw Raccoon.

“Go slowly, for now there is no danger of pursuit,” said Titi to his steed, who obeyed. Then, to make conversation, Titi asked what the Ratsack Golem’s thought the best movie of all time was. The golem replied he did not think there was a best movie as he didn’t see movies in terms of “good” and “bad”.

“You're working with the established notion that the art world is like a prizefight: we decide which is the champion painting, the champion book, the champion symphony, and so forth. But I do not see the world like that. I want to talk about why a director made the choices they did, not if those choices were ‘right’ or ‘wrong’.”

“Uh-huh… Do you have a favorite movie star?”

“For some people movie stars are necessary because we lack mythologies, and the brain responds to unconscious mythology. For this reason, movie stars have replaced gods. Squishball players and musicians are also part of this phenomenon. They have their roles and in certain moments they are helpful, but they are not necessary nor do we have an obligation to hold on to them.”

“Uh-huh,” said Titi.

Twilight fell, bye and bye, and then the dark shadows of night. So Titi stopped the raccoon and they all proceeded to dismount.

“I’m plum tuckered,” said the boy, yawning wearily; “and the grass is soft and cool. Let us lie down here and sleep until morning.”

“I don’t sleep,” said Nate Goiterhead.

“Me neither,” said the Ratsack Tremorroid.

“Nor I,” said the Chainsaw Raccoon.

“Still, we must have consideration for this poor boy, who is made of meat and gets tired,” suggested the Ratsack Tremorroid, in his usual thoughtful manner.

“I’m sorry,” said Titi, meekly, “but I can’t help it. I’m also dreadfully hungry!”

“Here is a new danger!” remarked Nate, gloomily. “I hope you are not fond of eating goiters.”

“Not unless they’re made into pies,” answered the boy, laughing. “So have no fears of me, my son.”

“What a coward that Goiterhead is!” said the Chainsaw Raccoon, scornfully.

“You might be a coward yourself, if you knew you were liable to spoil!” retorted Nate, angrily.

“There, there, now, now!” interrupted the Ratsack Tremorroid; “don’t let us quarrel. We all have our weaknesses, dear friends; so we must strive to be considerate of one another. And since Titi is hungry and has nothing whatever to eat, let us all remain quiet and allow him to sleep; for it is said that in sleep a mortal may forget even hunger.”

“Thank you!” exclaimed Titi, gratefully. “Your highness is fully as good as you are wise- and that is saying a good deal!”

He then stretched himself upon the grass and once again entered the Land of Nod.